Stepbrother Untouchable (5 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

“I'm so happy there's another girl working here!” Constance
says, swiveling around on her desk chair. She's my new cubicle mate, and one of
only a handful of other interns at Thornhill and Co.

“Ah, there. My Outlook is finally working,” I announce,
opening the email system on my desktop.

“So they'll want you to sign an NDA and stuff, but after,
want to go to lunch?” she asks.

“What's an NDA?” I turn to face her.

“Non-disclosure agreement. There are a ton of Senators and
big business types who come in here, and you can't tell
anyone
. Very
important,” she says in hushed tones. She seems very pleased that she's snagged
this coveted internship, which is probably why I haven't told her that I'm the
boss's stepdaughter. I've never benefited from nepotism before, and it feels
strange and uncomfortable to me now.

“Oh. Well I'd love to get lunch later this week, but I'm
having lunch with my friend Allison today. We go to UVA together, and she's got
an internship at this urban planning place in Georgetown, so I'm going to meet
up with her.”

“Cool. Georgetown has really good shopping. I'd love to go
with you sometime. Fashion is like, my side hobby, and you have a stylist's
dream body.”

“I don't think I—” I begin my canned response to a shopping
invitation before I realize that maybe I
can
afford it. And Constance
looks so perfectly chic in her patterned cardigan and statement necklace. “You
know, that would be wonderful. I really don't know what to buy.”

“Oh, I can help you with that. But careful not to wear
anything too tight around Mr. Thornhill,” she adds, rolling her eyes.

“What do you mean?” I ask with a frown.

“Oh my god, who is
that
?” Constance asks, breaking
away from our conversation to stand and peer over our cubicle wall. I join her
to see Nate and Pierce walking down the hallway together toward the elevator
bank. They must be having lunch together.

“That's his son,” I reply, immediately sitting down again.

“He looks like a Polo model!” Constance exclaims, sitting
back down.

“Um, what were you saying about Pierce—Mr. Thornhill—just
then?”

“Well, I've never had an issue, but maybe he's just not into
Asian girls,” she says, throwing her black hair over her shoulder carelessly.
“From what I've heard, though, he has a certain reputation.”

“Oh, no,” I reply, worriedly tugging on my hair. Shit. Shit.
I knew he was too good to be true.

“Don't worry. From what I've heard, he's pretty harmless,
he's just from a different generation when it comes to women around the
office—especially young women,” she adds.

“Mmhm,” I reply, my mind already spiraling into crisis mode.

“You OK, Brynn?”

“Maybe he's changed, though. I mean, he's married now,” I
say, clinging to a speck of hope.

“Yeah, I heard he got married.” She shrugs. “Could be. I
don't think it's something that's been really recent or anything.”

I nod, feeling slightly mollified. We both spin back to our
computers as we hear footsteps approaching our cubicle. I glance up to see
Pierce and Nate appear in the opening.

“Brynn, this is going to sound awful,” Pierce begins, and I
brace myself. “But Nate and I had plans to go to lunch, and we got down to the
lobby before I realized how rude it was not to invite you along.”

Phew. For a second I thought he overheard our conversation.
“Oh, that's so nice, but I actually have lunch plans with my best friend from
school, anyway.”

“Oh I see…well, enjoy! There are some great restaurants
around here. We just wanted to let you know you were invited,” Pierce says
kindly, though from Nate's frown I'm guessing that it was more his idea than
his son's. “Constance, right?” he says, turning to her.

“Yes, that's right,” she squeaks.

“Alright, well, we better get going or we'll be late for our
reservation. See you at home!” Pierce says with a wave, and walks off with Nate
in tow. Huh. I notice that Nate didn't say a single word to me. I guess he
doesn't like being the one left wanting for once.

“Why will Mr. Thornhill see you at home?” Constance says,
slowly turning her desk chair to face me, a weird expression on her face.

“Um, well, I'm his stepdaughter. He just married my mom.”

Constance gasps and buries her face in her hands. “Oh my
god, oh my god, I'm so fired. I'm fired, right?”

“What? No! I don't have that kind of authority, I'm just an intern,
like you.”

“You're the boss's daughter, and I was just gossiping about
him!”

“
Step
-daughter, and I get it. If I'd heard rumors
like that, I might want to warn other women I work with, too.”

“But I don't even know if they're true, I'm so sorry,” she
says miserably.

“Really, it's OK. And I'm sorry that I didn't tell you
earlier that I'm his stepdaughter. I just…you know, didn't want it to seem like
it was the only reason I got the internship. I mean, I really do work very
hard.”

“Of course you do! Of course. Yes. I should get back to
work,” Constance says, turning to her computer and beginning to type rapidly.

“…And now I'm worried she's going to keep acting really
weird around me,” I confide to Allison over a Caesar salad at Clyde's on M
Street.

“Do you think it's true?” she whispers, leaning over the
table between us.

“I don't know…I mean, maybe he was just a flirt, and it got
blown out of proportion, you know?”

“I bet that's what it is,” Allison says, nodding her head
sagely. “Who knows how stories like that really get started? And once they're
out there, you can't erase them.”

“I hope that's what it is…I don't want to discount some
woman's, or women's, experience just because it would be inconvenient for me,
though, and painful for my mom. She would be so crushed if it were true.”

“I wouldn't worry about it. And that girl said they were old
stories, right?”

“Right.”

“And you said he treats your mom well, so I bet they're just
ugly rumors.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I reply, pushing the thought of Pierce's
alleged misbehavior to the back of my brain. “How's the place you're staying at
George Washington?” I ask, knowing she's taking advantage of a program at the
nearby university to give summer interns a low-cost place to stay in an
otherwise expensive city.

“It's fine. My roommate's kinda loud, though. How's your new
house?”

“It's so big! I don't know why anyone would need that much
space. I mean before my mom and I got there, it was just for two people. Well,
three, including the maid.”

“There's a maid?!”

“There was. She doesn't live there anymore. Oh, and there's all
this flagstone on it, so I thought it was old, but my mom said that Pierce had
the house built around fifteen years ago. He must have spent a lot of money to
make something so new look worn-in.”

“You're lucky,” Allison says.

“I know.”

“How's the stepbrother? I don't know if I could live with a
dumb jock.”

“Well, Nate's not dumb. I've been in a few classes with him,
and he's really smart. He was even waitlisted for a Lawn Room.”

“You're a little defensive of him,” Allison observes,
sipping her water.

“Yeah, I guess so. I don't know why though. He's been
playing these weird mind games with me.”

“Mind games?” she repeats, frowning. I push a crouton around
my plate as I think about how much to tell her. I have a feeling it's not the
kind of situation she'd condone, but I also really want to talk to someone
about what's been going on.

“Well, you remember that I used to have a crush on him?”

“Yeah, I remember you saying something about it sophomore
year.”

“I…I
still
have a crush on him. Or I think I do…I
don't know. I'm definitely attracted to him, and he's aware of the fact. He can
be really rude, and then last night, he almost kissed me, but he…”

“Whoa, what? I mean, Brynn, he's your stepbrother.”

“I know! But only for the last few weeks, and—”

“OK…but what if you
did
kiss? What then? You'd have
to see him every day, because your mom and his dad are
married
. And then
even if you weren't living together, what about holidays? You'd be cutting the
Thanksgiving turkey and sitting across from the guy you'd made out with…for
every
Thanksgiving.”

“Ugh, you're right,” I reply, dropping my fork and covering
my face with my hands. This is why I didn't want to tell Allison—she'd throw
logic in the face of my hormones. But the truth is, she's right. I feel like a
bucket of cold water has just been poured over my head. “You're right,” I
repeat. “I can't believe I even let it get this far.”

I head back to the office after lunch and spend the rest of
the afternoon sitting in an awkward silence with Constance. I try to get her to
engage about online shopping, but she only offers me one-word responses. Later
in the day I meet another intern named Greg, a cute, strawberry-blonde guy who
blushes when I look him in the eye. He is more the kind of person I should be
looking to date. I just wish I felt that same rush that I do whenever I'm
around Nate.

I drive home just after six in the old Audi that was just
sitting in the Thornhill's garage. It's definitely the most expensive car I've
ever driven, and it's fun to really let out the engine on the short stretch of
the Beltway on my way back to Potomac. I park in the garage and let myself in
to the small anteroom off the kitchen, where I kick off my shoes.

“Mom?” I call out, before spotting her outside on the back
lawn, talking on the phone as the sun sets behind her. I head upstairs with my
tote bag still over my shoulder. The huge house is silent as I walk up the
steps and down the hallway. Nate must still be at his internship. My mom told
me he got one at some think tank downtown.

I drop my bag as I walk into my bedroom and push the door
almost closed behind me with my foot. I can't wait to get this skirt off. It's
my one pencil skirt, and it's a little itchy around my waist.

I step into the bathroom and turn on the elegant faucet in
the sink. I tie my hair behind my head with a loose elastic and splash some
cool water on my skin. First days are always exhausting, but I think today was
unusually so. As I look back up to my reflection, dripping with water, I see
something move in the mirror. I stare at it blankly, not understanding what I'm
seeing. The mirror above the sink is reflecting the mirror above my vanity in
the bedroom, which is in turn reflecting an image from my partially open
bedroom door. It's Nate, I realize. He's standing outside my door, and he
doesn't realize I can see him.

I look down at the sink, pretending to watch the last of the
water as it swirls down the drain. A shiver of excitement runs through me at
the idea that Nate could actually be interested in me—I mean, he's there, right
now, watching me. Before I process what I'm doing, before I can think of all
the reasons not to, I slowly move my hands to my lower back and undo the clasp
at the top of the zipper, then unzip my skirt. I let it fall in a pile at my
feet, then step out of it. I look up carefully and Nate is still there in the
double reflection.

Allison's warning echoes through my mind but I keep going. I
feel high, high on the feeling that I'm actually desired. I catch hold of the
back of my rather shapeless blouse in my hands and pull it up over my head,
then toss it onto the floor. As I look back in the mirror, I try to imagine
what someone else might see when they look at me, without my constant negative
interior monologue telling me nasty things about myself. Do I have the kind of
body that someone like Nate could find attractive?

Now down to my bra and underwear, I begin to feel nervous,
but I reach up to unclasp my bra. I feel the straps loosen on my shoulders and
bring my hands forward to catch it as it falls.